


Tame

by angharadismyhero



Category: Mad Max Fury road, Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Consensual Kink, Dom Furiosa, Dom/sub, F/M, Het, Oral Sex, VERY light bondage, definitely just porn, sub Max
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 11:10:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4057798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angharadismyhero/pseuds/angharadismyhero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max reappears at the Citadel to find everything changed for the better and Furiosa considers something neither of them thought of before. Max, it turns out, does well with a firm but gentle hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tame

**Author's Note:**

> After watching Mad Max for the second time I found myself thinking that while I totally loved that Max and Furiosa aren't at all involved, I would totally enjoy reading a femdom fic between the two - not because the canon needs any adjustment, but because they seemed to fit the roles so well. Not too long after that this sort of sprang out of my head as some serious wish fulfillment. This is the first fic I have EVER written and I welcome feedback!

He doesn’t remember how much time has passed since their long run. It doesn’t seem like too long, but he has trouble with that type of thing, and it’s not like anyone cares about years very much anymore anyway. Still, when he finds himself outside the Citadel, this time voluntarily, he wonders if he will recognize anyone or anything. Maybe it’s been so long that they’re dead. That happens. Maybe he has survived so well that nothing he knows is left. 

So when he is recognized, and called out to, his instinct is to startle and run. He runs less than he used to though, and after a moment he realizes he knows the face in front of him. Capable. That’s the name. More tanned, more clothed, more … capable. She is walking with The Dag and carrying a basket of something green and Max realizes he is in a place he knows but which has changed almost beyond recognition. 

Capable grabs his wrist and tugs, and Max furrows his dusty brow but just says “hm” and follows. They go up and in, back into the rock face of the Citadel and Max doesn’t shake her hand off but does put his other hand on his gun, because he’s pretty used to getting shot at. No reason to think things have changed that much. The Dag looks at him sideways and almost smiles. 

Around one rocky corner then another, past what might have been War Boys but look less diseased and women who make bold eye contact and down another hall. The Dag stops at a door and asks the air “does she know what’s changed?” Capable keeps pulling until she stops, suddenly and grins, in before stepping away.

She’s brought him to Furiosa. 

_____

 

She isn’t wearing axle grease but Max recognizes her immediately. She doesn’t say anything, just lifts her hand in greeting and smiles, a real smile, before someone calls for her.

She is busy, pulled in every direction by the Not-War Boys and the Wives. She has added more power to her strength and resilience, but Max thinks that maybe Toast is in charge. It’s less obvious than with Immortan Joe. The residents only worship their leaders secretly now, without being asked. 

A girl Max doesn’t recognize and is pretty sure was not a Wife leads him to a room and tells him that Furiosa will be there eventually but has to finish with something or other that Max mostly ignores. The girl leaves him food and gives him water - water! - to wash. It’s only a bowl, but it’s water and it’s for washing. Being clean is almost unimaginable.

By the time Furiosa returns, Max has checked all the corners, shadows, and hidden spots in the room. He’s safe. 

____

 

“You came back.” She is glad, of course, even if she won’t say it. 

“ Well. I uh. I was done with something.” 

She doesn’t ask and doesn’t need to. Furiosa looks at him, appraising, and says “you look healthier than the last time I found you.”

“I found you. Both times. Yes.”

“You’ll stay? For a while?” 

Max nods, and grunts, and she smiles again. No need to be chatty. After a moment of gazing at Max, seeing his skin and hair clean for the first time, acknowledging that she is truly happy to see him, she reaches out. Perhaps … perhaps they can be useful to each other again. 

Furiosa’s hand starts out gentle, tentative, against Max’s face, along his bristly, short beard, and stops, firm, along his jaw. She doesn’t need to ask, so she just looks at him. 

Max presses his head against her hand, and gazes back. He nods, and Furiosa’s eyes go darker, soft then deliberate. She moves her hand down further and steadily, confidently, presses her thumb into his mouth. He lets out a small huff, not quite surprised and not fighting, and opens his mouth to suck on the finger. Furiousa’s breath catches, and she brings her thumb and fingers together to pinch, not gently anymore, at Max’s full lip. He holds his body still, meeting her eyes, and understands her need. 

When she pulls her hand away and waits, he answers. “Hm. Well. Yes.”

Furiosa steps away and reaches around to work at the buckles of her prosthetic. “Take off your clothes. All of them. And sit down there.” She points to the platform in the corner that must be her bed. “No. Kneel there, on it.” 

She doesn’t watch exactly while Max strips off first his jacket and boots and then shirt and pants, but she can hear each layer slide off and fall to the floor. She turns to see him pulling off his underwear, her surprise at its existence in his wardrobe pushed aside by the view they provide when they’re gone. He climbs onto the bed and kneels, as ordered, at the foot, resting back on his heels. 

Furiosa steps closer and stares at the naked body in front of her. Max hasn’t moved, his arms hanging loose at his sides, and she feels a spike of excitement in the bottom of her stomach at his trust. 

“I could tie your hands, but I think that might be too much.” She won’t restrain him unless he wants it, after what she's seen happen to him. “Can you hold your hands behind your back for me, and leave them there?”

Max doesn’t answer, but swings his hands behind his back and grasps each wrist in the opposite hand. With a satisfied nod, Furiosa steps forward again, close enough to hear Max breathe. She puts her hand back on his jaw and runs her fingers down his throat, across his collarbone, and onto his well-muscled stomach. Her touch is light and teasing, but not tentative now. Her fingers travel back up to his shoulders, strong and tensed slightly from holding his arms back, and then to his left nipple, which she rubs with a callused thumb. 

Max breathes out harder, and shifts on his knees. “Don’t move.” Furiosa’s voice is quiet but commanding. She is still clothed, but Max’s nakedness makes his response to her touch obvious. Her hands continue their journey over his body, working down to press into his inner thighs. She doesn’t touch his cock, not yet. When she is satisfied with touching, she leans forward, and pushes her lips, and teeth, into his neck. It’s a kiss, mostly, but it’s also a bite, and she inhales his sweaty, dusty, almost-clean scent as he lets out a grumbly moan. 

Furiosa leans her left arm, shorter but still capable, on his shoulder to brace herself as she works her mouth down his neck back to his nipples. It is only when she is sure he still isn’t moving, at least not more than he can help, that she reaches her other arm down between his legs. She starts with his balls, cupping and tugging while she nips at his right nipple. Max is holding himself still, hands clasped behind his back, even as his erection grows to its full length. 

“You’re doing very well. I’m impressed.” Furiosa, finally, grasps Max’s cock with her hand and runs a firm pull up, down, up again and rubs her thumb over the slit at the end. Max’s groans are a little more whimpering than before, and her thumb comes away wet. Just when her hand starts to have a rhythm Furiosa lets go and backs away, and Max sways. 

Her gaze moves from calculating to hungry, and Furiosa reaches out to push Max, hard, in the center of his chest so he falls back onto the mattress. She experiences almost physical pleasure when she sees that he makes no attempt to unclasp his hands, to steady himself, to even move off his feet. She has mercy on his straining legs and unfolds them from under his ass, letting him lay flat on the mattress with his arms still behind him. Restrained but not bound, so he could move if he needed. Max’s breath is coming out in little puffs and his cock is hard and red against his belly. 

Furiosa’s hand only shakes slightly as she unbuckles her belt and pulls off her pants. No underwear for her, it’s a waste of cloth, but her tank top reveals a functional bra that stays on. Max looks up as she climbs onto the bed and straddles him at chest level, her dark pubic hair only a foot from his face. Furiosa lifts an eyebrow and tips her hips forward. 

Max nods. “Yes. Hm. Please.” 

Furiosa slides forward and braces her good hand on the wall above his head before lowering herself, already wet from the pleasure of watching Max obey, toward his face. Max lifts his face to meet her with tongue and lips and presses as if hungry into her cunt. He grabs her outer lips in his mouth and sucks before moving inward, pressing his tongue into her with strong strokes. When his hot tongue circles her clit, Furiosa gasps and presses down into the movement. 

Max licks and sucks and moans, like Furiosa’s wetness is water in the desert, and she begins to push into his face rhythmically, fucking herself on his eager tongue. When she comes she cries out, gasping wordlessly, and as she comes down she can hear Max grunt in appreciation.

Furiosa lifts herself back up and, breathing fast now, meets Max’s eyes again. His face is wet from her pleasure and he licks his lips. She slides back, still straddling his body, and grasps his cock in her hand to line it up with her opening. She pushes down hard and fast, Max’s cock filling her to the edge of comfort. His hips buck up and he lets out a gasping whine before she pushes her hand back onto his chest. 

“I’ve got this. Don’t move.” Max’s chest heaves and he nods, and a tiny bead of sweat slides down the side of his face. Furiosa licks it off and grins, ferally, before straightening up and starting to ride. Her strong thighs don’t need other support to lift her body almost completely off his cock and push it back down, again and again, but she leaves her hand on his chest to feel the racing of his heart. 

Max’s breathing goes uneven and he starts to tense, but at Furiosa’s firm command “no. Wait,” he takes a deeper breath and obeys. Furiosa throws her head back and grinds down harder and digs her nails into his chest as she comes again. This time she doesn’t wait, and pulls off Max’s cock immediately to grab it in her hand. It only takes a few jerks of her hand and thrusts of his hips before he is writhing, panting, losing his last grasp on control, head back and chest up. Furiosa doesn’t let up her motions but tells him “yes” and “yes now, you can come now” and he lets go., gasping, his come shooting freely onto his stomach. 

They both are still for a moment, Furiosa standing against the side of the bed and Max working on finding his breath. Furiosa reaches over and pulls his arms, gently, out from under him. She bends to grab her tank top off the floor and wipe her hands, his cock, and his stomach clean, and then she lays down on her side beside him.

“You were very good, Max. You are so good.” Max turns his head to meet her eyes and makes an uncertain sound. “Will you stay for a while?” He knows she’s not issuing orders now, and that if he doesn’t she will understand. He scoots his body closer though, and leans into the hand on his cheek.


End file.
